


The Fate of Fear and Hate

by noxsoulmate



Series: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: (or so they thought), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Auror Hermione Granger, BAMF Hermione Granger, Death Eaters, F/M, Falling In Love, Fate & Destiny, Hunters & Hunting, Lust at First Sight, Mistaken Identity, One Night Stands, Screw Destiny, Soulmates, Texting, Witch Hunts, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: On your eighth birthday, a single word will appear on your wrist, describing your soulmate’s feelings for you. The darker the writing, the more profound the emotion will be at the time of your first meeting; the lighter it is, the weaker the feeling and the more likely it is to change - generally for the better.After all, soulmates are destined to love each other, and only each other, right?Hermione Granger certainly doesn’t think so. How could she, when her word reads something so far fromloveshe sincerely hopes she will never actually run into her supposed other half? Never have to know what inspired such a visceral and cruel emotion? What she doesn’t mind, however, are the accidental run-ins with a handsome FBI agent. Or the attention he gives her. Or the great nights they spend together.Who even needs a soulmate anyway, if they can have a man like Dean Winchester?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Dean Winchester
Series: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606492
Comments: 92
Kudos: 219
Collections: Hermione's Haven Bingo 2020, Hermione's Nook RarePair Soulmate Fest, Love Fest 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArielSakura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura/gifts).



> Welcome to my first real attempt at a crossover fic 😍 
> 
> This is my entry to the Rare Pair Soulmate Fest over in [Hermione’s Nook](https://www.facebook.com/groups/hermionesnook/) and it also fills a square of my Bingo Card. In addition to that, it's part of the Love Fest 2020 over in [The Fairest of the Rare](https://www.facebook.com/groups/fairestoftherare/) #LF2020 #TeamAphrodite 
> 
> This fic is the start of a mini-series with at least three parts. Fair warning: this first part will have a sad ending!! But it won't be the end!
> 
>  **Hermione's Haven Bingo Card**  
>  _square filled:_ I2 "Mistaken Identity"
> 
>  **Hermione's Nook Rare Pair Soulmate Fest**  
>  _pairing:_ Hermione/Dean Winchester  
>  _prompt:_ Your soulmate's first feeling/impression about you is written on your body - it may or may not change over time  
>  _word count minimum:_ 1000 words
> 
> **To my avid Destiel readers:** please don't hate me 😂 Destiel will always be my one true love, my one true pairing - yet, Deanmione IS a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. But I promise, fics with them will never feature Cas 😉

_Love._

_Happiness._

_Home._

Those were the most common words written on people’s bodies. For a large part of humankind, their one word never changed, the fundamental feeling their soulmate had about them never wavering from the first moment they met to the last breath they took together.

A smaller part - those whose soulmate was somewhat wary about meeting their other half - showed less profound words, the color not as intense as it would be once the _real_ and profound emotion would come to light. Some were prophesied that the other one would be _excited_ or _nervous_ when they first met them. Some even _annoyed_ \- a word that almost always promised an accidental meeting, like literally running into each other.

These words, however, would change very quickly, turning into a vibrant color to replace the almost fading grey. As soon as the more profound feeling would set in, they would read _love_ or _happiness_ or _home_ or really, any of these feelings that proved that two parts had become one.

For Hermione Granger, however, the word revealing itself on her eighth birthday was none of the above.

When her parents found her crying in her room, they gasped at what they saw written on her wrist but quickly enveloped her in tight hugs, telling her again how they had first met. How Jean had grown up with the word _annoyed_ and Hugh even had to live with _angry_ , only to find out that it would turn out to be one of the worst meet-uglies possible.

They had met in a café, Jean on her way to a job interview, Hugh in a rush to get to work himself, not watching where he was going with his coffee-to-go. He had crashed into Jean so hard, his coffee had spilled all over her blouse.

Of course, _he_ had been _annoyed_ about the woman standing in his way.

Of course, _she_ had been _angry_ with the man for ruining her appearance.

They had parted ways in a hurry - only to meet again in Hugh’s dental office, where Jean had her job interview. It didn’t take them long then to realise that there was a connection between them, much less time for Hugh to pull up his sleeve and ask Jean if, by chance, this was what she had felt just about half an hour earlier.

Hermione, of course, had never gotten to see the shadowy words _annoyed_ or _angry_ on her parents’ wrists. Long before she had been born, the writing had changed, replaced by the vibrant and typical _love_.

In all rationality, Hermione _did know_ that feelings could change. She knew that as long as the words were of a pale nature, they only described the feeling your soulmate had about you at the very moment you first met. She knew that not everybody was so lucky to have a vibrant love declaration written on their skin right away. 

And just like every young girl waiting for her word to show, she had dreamed of it showing something that would never change. Something that would promise that her soulmate would love her from the moment he set eyes on her. And if she could not have that, then at least something that would warrant such a cute story like her parents shared, unique to most others but still with a promise of a happy ending.

On her eighth birthday, however, she only got one of those many wishes fulfilled.

For her tattoo was of a rather vibrant nature, showing that her soulmate’s feeling was strong, a profound emotion, not a fleeting impression upon their first meeting.

It was vibrant - but more than anything, Hermione now wished for it to one day change. 

But it wouldn’t, not now. Not until she met her soulmate and he got to know her.

Given the word though, it might not ever change.

That was how Hermione learned to cover up her wrist. How she learned to never show anyone the writing there. How she tried to not look at it for too long herself.

Only at night would she lie awake, brushing her fingers over the four dark letters.

_H_

Tracing one after the other.

_A_

Wondering what she had done to warrant such emotions in her soulmate.

_T_

Not caring for the falling tears soaking her pillow.

_E_

Until she finally fell asleep.


	2. Once is Fate

19 Years Later

The dim light and loud background noise gave Hermione a sense of seclusion as she let her eyes wander around the establishment. The dive bar, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska, was everything she would expect of such a place in America. Pool-tables, darts, country music, a drunk or two at the bar, some bikers, a few couples, and some shady but harmless-looking people, all mixed together with the smell of grease and cheap beer.

After knocking back her drink, Hermione pushed the glass away. As she debated getting another, the door opened, revealing a young man around her age. Though his face and smile looked young, Hermione couldn’t help but detect something behind his gaze, behind his eyes, that reminded her of so many of her friends from back home. Something that told her that while still young, he was mature way beyond his years, and not necessarily by choice. 

Something that gave her an instant sense of _connection_.

Pausing in her train of thought, Hermione held her breath. This was the weirdest feeling she had ever experienced and under any other circumstance, she would have questioned if maybe _this_ was how people felt when they first saw their soulmate.

The thought was gone the moment his eyes landed on her and a barely concealed flirty smile spread over his lips. His eyes quickly looked up and down her form and Hermione rolled her eyes, turning back to get another shot. 

At least she could rule out that this was her soulmate - because if he had been, she was pretty sure the word on her wrist would have spelled out _lust_ and now wouldn’t _that_ have been a fun conversation to have with her parents back in the day?

Internally preparing to tell the guy off, Hermione was immensely relieved when he didn’t sit down right next to her, instead leaving two empty chairs between them. 

At least, she pretended to be relieved.

She simply didn’t have time for any distractions.

Well, that’s what she told herself.

Trying to get the attention of the girl working the bar tonight without looking too desperate, Hermione was still battling with her internal monologue _and_ her desire to glance to her right side, when all of a sudden something - or rather, _someone_ \- knocked into her left side, completely catching her off guard.

_Now, that’s something new._

No one had been able to catch _her_ off guard in… well, a very long time. Her first reflex was to reach for her wand, which luckily she repressed. This was a muggle establishment after all. Turning, the first thing Hermione registered was the stench of alcohol.

A very, very strong stench.

The guy who had bumped into her seemed older than her but still not really old. Maybe mid-thirty. He had a lopsided smile on his – admittedly attractive – face and light blue eyes that were glassy and bright. If the stench hadn’t been telling enough, his demeanour certainly was. This guy was so wasted it wasn’t even funny anymore.

But if by any chance he had the word disgust on his wrist, then the chances were high that he was her soulmate. Because disgust was certainly the first feeling Hermione felt right now.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

Scratch _disgust_.

_Nausea_. It was nausea.

“Not interested,” she told him, pulling her arm away from where the guy rubbed into it. Sadly, it only made him come closer, so Hermione had to lean away from him.

“How about some 'Sex on the Beach'?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione looked back at the guy.

“Really? Of all the bad pick-up lines, you choose this one?”

“Not a pick-up line, baby. Just offering a drink.”

“Yes, I very much hope you were. Even a primate such as you should know that there are no _beaches_ in _Nebraska_.”

The drunken smile somewhat slipped from the bloke’s face, leaving a rather confused look.

“Sooo… is that a yes?”

“God, _no!_ What is wrong with you?” she exclaimed, pushing the man away when he swayed further into her personal space.

“With me? Hey, what’s wrong with you? I was just -”

“Hey, buddy,” a rough, yet warm voice from her right spoke up. “How about you listen to the lady and keep walkin’?”

Instantly, Sex-on-the-Beach-guy leaned up, mustering as much challenge as was probably possibly in his drunken state, and looked over her head.

Hermione let her gaze follow.

The guy really _did_ look stunning. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if he was a model or something and that the wisdom-beyond-his-years came from being in that industry from a young age. His hair was a mix of sandy blond, honey gold, and a soft brown. Eyes so green Hermione was sure not even Harry’s could rival them.

And freckles.

Merlin, she loved freckles.

She certainly wouldn’t mind tasting them.

_Hoookay. Shut up, drunken brain._

Shutting down her weird, and way too dreamy thoughts, Hermione concentrated on the exchange between the two men.

“What did ya say?” 

Freckles took a deep breath as if to steel himself for some idiocracy, and fixed his gaze on the guy.

“I think you heard me, loud and clear. And more importantly, you heard her.”

He pointed in her direction, his gaze flicking to her briefly before those green eyes were back on the bloke.

“She said no. Respect that man, and go away.”

“Who the fuck are you? Her daddy?”

That brought a short grin to Freckles’ face, nothing more than a quick tuck on one side of his lips. It was gone with a shake of his head.

“Just keep walking. Be a man and have some self-respect.”

“I was only offering her a drink.”

“One that she doesn’t even drink.”

“Okay, you know what, smartass?”

Hermione could feel the mood shift as Freckles stayed calm and collected while creeper guy seemed to get aggravated, pushing himself to his full height.

Pointing a finger at Freckles, he continued.

“You’re starting to piss me off. Why don’t we go outside and I show you how much of a _man_ I can be.”

“Uhh, sounds kinky,” Freckles replied with a terrible eyebrow wiggle that had Hermione snort with repressed laughter.

Freckles caught her gaze for just a second and sent her a grin, then he kept talking to the bloke.

“I don’t think you'd like the consequences.”

That got a derisive snort from the creep - until Freckles’ next move silenced him completely. He pulled out his wallet - and flashed a damn FBI badge!

_Okay, did not see_ that one _coming._ Hermione thought to herself, surprised.

“And I hate to repeat myself,” the agent said as he pocketed his badge again. His next words were spoken with a steely - and damn sexy - authoritative voice. “But: Keep. Walking!”

Finally, _finally_ , the creep listened.

With one last glance in her direction and glare towards the agent, he left at last.

Hermione let her gaze follow him for a moment, making sure he was really gone and wouldn’t surprise her a second time, then she turned back to the agent.

When their eyes met, she couldn’t help a soft smile.

“Thanks for that, Agent.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, raising his hand to get the bar girl’s attention. She was across from him within a second.

Figures.

“What can I get you, handsome?”

“Just a Jack for me and -” he sent her a calculating gaze, once more letting his eyes wander up and down her form “- another one for her.”

The bar girl looked at Hermione and she was sure to see an eye roll there, but to her credit, the girl didn’t say anything, just got the agent’s order and then left to tend to another patron.

“Well, thanks again,” Hermione replied, raising her glass towards him before taking a liberal swig.

Her attention was drawn to the agent once again when she heard a soft chuckle. A sound that most certainly _did not_ send a pleasant shiver down her spine, nope. Not at all. That obviously came from her good friend Jack.

“What’s got you laughing?” she asked, taking another sip before putting the glass down to salvage some of the good drink.

The man had yet to lift his from the counter, his fingers just playing around the rim of the glass.

Long and slender fingers.

_Oh, Merlin’s balls! Stop pointing out these things, you insufferable brain!_

“I’m just amazed,” Agent Freckles stated, finally taking a sip - which most certainly did not bring Hermione’s attention to his romance novel lips or, Merlin forbid, his Adam’s apple and that long neck and the bit of scruff along his sharp jaw and -

_Okay, shut. Up!_

Focusing back on the man - not on the tip of his tongue licking over his lips - she waited for him to continue.

“You certainly are a tough woman who - if I had to take a guess - can kick ass. Yet you didn’t give me any of this ‘I’m no damsel in distress, I can take care of myself’-shit for helping you with that asshole. And you didn’t look annoyed when I ordered that drink for you.”

“And that surprises you?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation, catching her gaze again, glass hovering close to his lips. “I like a woman who’s strong enough to accept some help.”

His eyes never strayed from hers as he took that sip, burning bright with fire.

~*~

It didn’t stay at those two glasses of whiskey.

After their first Jack, Hermione learned Agent Freckles’ name was actually Dean.

After their second Jack, the gap between them melted away, Dean sliding the two chairs over and Hermione found she did not mind that, not at all.

After their third Jack, Hermione lost her hoodie and Dean his overshirt, revealing muscled arms and sunkissed, soft skin. His lustful gaze, as it lingered on her form, certainly did not escape her attention.

After their fourth Jack, Dean ordered them both a Sex on the Beach, much to their mutual amusement. 

After their first Sex on the Beach, Hermione leaned further into Dean the more they talked and his hand lingered on her hip, his lips close to her ear.

After their fifth Jack, Hermione excused herself to use the loo, where she quickly downed a small vial of pepper-up potion. She had a feeling that Dean was quite used to drinking a lot and while she could certainly hold her liquor, she was also much, much smaller than Dean and not as used to it as him.

Quickly using the loo after all and then spending a few minutes in front of the mirror to make sure she still looked okay, Hermione finally stepped back into the hallway that held the two doors to the bathrooms and what looked like an escape door to a back alley. Her instincts told her to look around, make sure she was alone. It wasn’t even a conscious thought anymore, it just happened.

Just as she went to take the few steps back into the bar, the door to the men’s bathroom opened. 

Before she could reach for her wand, however, she recognised Dean, pulling her hand away from her purse. The moment he saw her, a soft smile pulled on his lips. She could see the first traces of him being drunk, but certainly not as bad as he could have been after all they had consumed, confirming her theory that he was used to it.

“Hey,” he said. “Girl at the bar just told me it's last round. Fancy another drink?”

Letting her eyes flit over Dean’s face - sweet Merlin, he was _handsome!_ \- a quote Professor McGonagall had once reminded her of came back to mind.

_‘In twenty years you will be more disappointed by what you didn’t do than by what you did.’_

And who was she to contradict Mark Twain or Minerva McGonagall?

With just two steps, she was in Dean’s space, the tall man looming over her. Instantly, his hands found her hips, pulling her in, as his eyes lit up and darkened at the same time, filling with lust and desire.

Their lips found each other without any hesitation or awkward fumbling and Hermione instantly melted against his strong frame.

And good Lord, that man could _kiss_.

His lips were as soft as they had appeared to be and the soft scruff gave just enough friction. His hands held her, strong and sure, prompting her to give in to this moment even further. When his tongue softly swiped over her lips, she parted them with a soft moan.

In one swift move, Dean had them turned, pressing Hermione back against the wall. With his much larger frame, it was easy for him to bracket her in - a move that usually made her nervous, sometimes even frantic. A move she usually corrected right away, leading men to wrongfully believe she liked to take the lead.

But with Dean…

With Dean, it was different.

She could taste the whiskey on his lips and some of the sweetness of their Sex on the Beach on his tongue and smell the alcohol on his breath - and still, she felt... 

Safe.

The warmth covering her, blanketing every inch of her, was not oppressive. It was comfortable.

It was secure.

“Dean,” she breathed, pulling at his shirt to have him even closer. Drawing him in, not planning on letting him go. And the way he took his time for just a damn perfect kiss like this told her that he didn’t plan on leaving either.

Out of nowhere, the music and noises from the bar grew louder, followed by the _bang_ of a door. Being so caught up in everything _Dean_ , it took Hermione a moment to realise that they weren’t alone anymore.

The bloke passed them without paying much attention, vanishing behind the men’s room without comment. He was so fast, the door to the bar wasn’t even fully closed by then. When it did, it left them in a relative state of calm and quiet again.

Which did nothing anymore to hide their heavy breaths.

Hermione’s eyes were fixed on those beautiful lips and it was a sin that she wasn’t feeling them somewhere on her body right now. But maybe it was for the best.

At least for now.

“How about that last drink?”

When Dean lifted just one eyebrow in question, Hermione chuckled and clarified.

“I do have some of the good stuff in my hotel room.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” he told her with a flirty grin and after leaning in for another kiss, he took her hand and pulled her along to collect their things and get the hell out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it so far - the other two chapters will follow soon, as well as the next parts 😊
> 
> 💖 a big thanks to [TriDogMom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom) for betaing this while ArielSakura is taking a little break


	3. Twice is Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey of Agent Freckles and Hermione continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally the next chapter 😍 hope you're as happy as I am 😊  
> Only one chapter left in this part of the fic - and it will bring all the drama 😉 in case you're missing the smut: don't worry, I have plans for that as well...
> 
> For now, enjoy 😘

A good month after meeting the mysterious Agent Freckles, aka Dean Winchester, Hermione had to travel across the state. Her partner, Theo Nott, had contacted her with a new lead, so Hermione had left Nebraska and her research behind and they met up in Colorado. As members of the International Death Eater Task Force, a cooperation between the British Ministry and MACUSA, it was their job to find the last rogue Death Eaters to bring them to justice. A few years ago, first sightings of Death Eater had brought a small elite of British Aurors to America, Hermione and Theo being two of them, and since then; not only had they formed a friendship, they had also already caught a whole bunch of these arseholes.

Now they were chasing someone they were rather sure of could be Dolohov - which of course meant that Hermione had her very own agenda to find him. So far, however, he seemed to be the most evasive one. Hermione had almost had him back in Nebraska, but an ugly run-in with some Muggles had prevented that. 

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one chasing that particular Death Eater - though why any Muggle would go after a deadly wizard was beyond Hermione’s understanding. All agents of MACUSA knew of the so-called American Hunters. And as it seemed, in _some_ cases, they were rather effective. But really, going against real wizards was just plain stupid in Hermione’s opinion.

Of course, she couldn’t be sure if these men really _had been_ Hunters, but the one she had been able to see in the dark forest certainly looked the type

After telling Theo about this, her partner had scolded her for following a lead without calling him for back-up, just because she had been right there when the call had come in.

“That’s what apparition and portkeys are for, Hermione!” he had said, eyebrows knitting together. Theo could be rather fierce if he wanted to. And if Hermione needed a good scolding because she was too reckless again. Or as Theo liked to call it, _too Gryffindorish._

At least it had brought her a rather satisfying night - because, without that run-in, she wouldn’t have been so shaken she needed to drain her fear in alcohol. And she would have never met the very handsome, very pleasant, and very _sexy,_ Agent Freckles. When she told Theo this, her partner had rolled his eyes and quickened his pace towards the crime scene, leaving a chuckling Hermione behind.

In all their years as partners, Theo had learned quickly that Hermione was not the prudish Lion Princess most people had thought of her at school. She was no tramp - but she also didn’t see a reason to say no to sexy guys. Not when her words promised her such heartbreak with her soulmate.

As they walked along the quiet street of the suburb the crime had taken place, Hermione soon stopped thinking about Agent Freckles and got her head back to the task. All around, she could see the picture-perfect, normal life of American Suburbia going on, her eyes instinctively skimming the surroundings. People were mowing their lawns or washing their cars, children were playing and people talking. Yet, the closer she looked, the more she could feel the underlying tension within the adults. Of course, a neighbouring family had been slaughtered.... And as it looked, she and Theo were drawing some attention - conversations were hushed as heads turned their way and she could also see curtains being brushed aside. The residents most likely wondering who these strange people were, walking around their streets.

Understandably so, Hermione thought. This was the picture of a perfectly normal neighbourhood. Obviously, everyone was wondering who would do such a horrible crime - and mostly, if it would maybe happen again and if _they_ would be next.

Quickly, Hermione mumbled a temporary notice-me-not charm and right away, all the head-turning and curtains-pushing stopped.

At the house in question, Theo made short work of _confunding_ the officer securing the premise, letting him believe they were part of the CSI team and therefore allowed inside while no one else was around. Once they had entered the house of the four victims, they quickly ran their diagnosis charms and checked for unusual signs - signs the _real_ CSI team would have missed since they had no idea how to look for the residual traces of magic.

It took them no longer than ten minutes until they were back outside, agreeing on one conclusion.

These for people had definitely been killed by a witch or wizard.

“We can’t be sure it was a Death Eater though,” Theo argued as they walked down the pathway and back onto the street.

Hermione was about to reply to that, argue that she had a feeling about this - when she heard a strangely familiar-sounding rumble of a car engine. Stopping in her tracks, she looked around.

Pulling up to the curb on the other side was a familiar black vintage car.

A car she had the pleasure of getting to know just a mere week ago.

For a moment, she was too shocked - too confused… maybe even excited - to react. To at least put a charm over herself so he would not recognise her...

As it seemed, it was that moment of hesitation that gave Agent Winchester enough time to see her. She noticed his eyes going wide and as he got out of his car, they stayed fixed on her.

“Shit,” she mumbled, quickly turning to Theo. “Play along.”

They had been partners for long enough for Theo not to argue and thankfully, Hermione was back to her usual sharp-witted self.

As she turned back around, she sent the man walking across the street and right up to them a big smile. One that was only partially an act, as Hermione found - part of her truly _was_ happy to see him again.

Especially in that outfit. Damn, the man looked fine in a suit.

“Agent, what a surprise seeing you here.”

“Well, I can say the same,” Dean replied with a smile she was sure was flirty to some degree. “At least, I have a reason being here,” he added, pointing towards the house Theo and herself had just left mere minutes ago.

“Me as well,” Hermione replied, pointing at Theo. “My friend here is thinking about moving to this area. Since his wife is working today and I was just visiting, I thought I would come with him.”

“And thankfully so,” Theo took over. “My wife trusts her judgement more than mine. Guess I’m lucky she was around.” Holding out a hand, he introduced himself. “Theo Nott, by the way.”

“Dean Winchester.”

That had Theo visibly stop short. Hand still in Dean’s, his grin spread over his face and Hermione had to remind herself that she absolutely could _not_ send a stinging hex at him right this moment.

“ _Dean_. Oh, yes. I was just about to ask how you know Hermione…” Sending her an exaggerated grin, he added, “Guess I can save my breath.”

“Really,” Hermione replied, humourless. “Could you have been a bit more obvious?”

Dean’s soft chuckle probably saved Theo’s life in this moment as it pulled her attention back to him.

“You’ve told your friends about me? I’m flattered.”

“Oh yeah, she’s told me all about _Agent Freckles_ -”

“ _Theo!_ ” Hermione exclaimed, and if he hadn’t been that much taller than her, she might have clapped her hand over his mouth. Merlin, sometimes she really hated this snake. “Why don’t you move along? There’s a lot more to see here. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“You sure?” Theo asked, clearly still amused by the whole encounter. “It was just getting interes-”

“ _Yes_ , I’m _sure_! I’ll meet you at the car in a few.”

One thing could definitely be said about Theo - the bloke had a good survival instinct. Therefore, he didn’t poke further and instead waved goodbye at Dean, leaving with a quick, “It was _so_ nice to meet you.”

Turning back to Dean, she gave him a rather bashful smile, embarrassed about the whole encounter. Dean seemed to have no such qualms, still grinning.

“Agent Freckles?”

“Urgh, can we please pretend the last five minutes didn’t happen?”

As Dean stepped closer, his soft chuckle turned a note rougher.

“Actually, I like it. And don’t be embarrassed. I enjoyed our night as well.”

That made Hermione grin in return. “Oh really? I couldn’t tell,” she teased.

“No?” Dean played along, looking contemplative. “Mhhh, guess I’ll have to show you again.”

“Guess you do,” Hermione replied, forcing herself not to reach out for him. What was it with men looking damn sexy in suits. Or was it just _this_ man that had her wanting to pull him close and to devour him in front of all these prim and proper families all around.

Probably the latter.

And maybe the memory of their night together.

And the possible prospect of a repeat.

“In that case,” Dean began as he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a notepad and a pen. Quickly scribbling something down, he ripped off the little note and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call me later and we can meet up?”

Taking the piece of paper, Hermione saw that it was a phone number.

“What, no fancy business card, Mr. FBI?”

“Well, I could give you that as well - but I'd rather not get any naughty pictures sent to my work phone,” he added with a wink.

Hermione laughed out loud. “We’ll see about that,” she replied, definitely not missing the spark in Dean’s eyes at her vague answer. “But first, I should get back to my friend. And don’t you have some work to do?”

“Oh, yes,” Dean replied, seemingly only now remembering that he was here on official duty. “Right, crime scene, investigation, catching a bad guy and all that.”

Hermione had to bite her lip to not tell Dean he could save his energy on this one - Theo and her had it covered and a Death Eater was definitely _not_ something a normal human should go after. But since she couldn’t, she stayed silent.

“Guess I’ll hear from you later then, Hermione,” Dean said, still with that enticing smile but already stepping backwards and in the direction of the house.

“Guess you will,” Hermione promised, sending him one last smile before finally turning around and quickly making her way back to their apparition point.

~*~

Finishing her rant, Hermione finally saw Dean’s second message and quickly replied to it.

His comment brought a soft smile to Hermione’s lips. The thought that she had brightened his day, if only a little bit… well, that was something. Before she could reply, two new messages appeared in short order.

Despite her reaction, his words only intensified her smile. Maybe even some of the butterflies in her stomach. It had been a good two months since they had met again and without a conscious decision to do so, they had stayed in contact ever since, texting regularly, sometimes even calling.

They hadn’t had a chance to meet again, even though Hermione suspected that Dean was working the same case they were - only of course, she and Theo had way better information sources. Then again, maybe as an FBI agent, you didn’t just work one case at a time. Who was Hermione to know? It wasn’t as if he was in some kind of special task force like Hermione was.

They hadn’t caught Dolohov just yet, but two other Death Eaters - one of them had been none other than Fenrir Greyback and a dark part inside of Hermione had had a hard time just passing him along to the authorities instead of taking him to a dark corner of the world and bringing justice to him herself.

That night, she had agreed to phone-sex with Dean to blow off some steam and it had significantly changed their dynamics while texting and speaking on the phone.

Before that, it had been easy but still somewhat restrained banter - after all, they were only two people who had happened to hook up a couple of times. After the phone sex though, the banter had become more carefree and easy. And more and more, they had begun to speak about serious stuff as well. Texting each other if they had a bad day and needed a cheer-me-up.

The _ping_ of her phone pulled Hermione’s thoughts back to the present.

Chuckling about Dean’s second text, Hermione was quick to type out her reply.

Thankfully, Dean didn’t seem to notice she hadn’t answered his question about her occupation. Sure, she could always just tell him some white lie - but she found that she preferred not to. The more the two of them talked, the less she wanted to lie to him. Every time she omitted something… it felt wrong. 

Maybe Theo’s teasing had some truth to it - because of course the bastard hadn’t stopped teasing her after he had met Dean. Whenever he would catch her smiling at her phone, he would ask if she was texting her _boyfriend_ again.

Hermione wasn’t delusional, of course. They weren’t a couple. Not at all.

Dean seemed as disinterested in a relationship as she was herself… 

Sighing, Hermione put her phone aside - for now - and went back to the report in front of her. Trying hard not to think about the one little seed of truth in all the teasing:

She was slowly, but surely, developing feelings for Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my wonderful soulmate and beta [ArielSakura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura) 💖 in case anyone is wondering where I got **the idea for Hermione's rant** from: every time Ariel betas one of my Destiel fics (which I write in American English) I get to hear a rant like that 😂 and if she's tired while betaing, I have to follow her along the doc and just silently change all the words back to American English 😂 love this crazy nugget so much 😘
> 
> _Next time: Hermione finally meets her soulmate..._


	4. Thrice is Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the big reveal of who Hermione's soulmate is 😊 I loved reading all your speculations and I can't wait to see what you will think after this chapter 💖

The sun was already rising, casting the room in a gentle and warm lighting. Hermione could feel sleep drawing closer, but she had no desire at all to actually sleep yet.

Not when she was lying in Dean’s arms, breathing in his musky warmth, mingled with traces of sex and cologne.

He was drawing lazy patterns over her shoulder as she rested her head on his chest.

One might even call it cuddling - but that was absurd, of course, because this might only be their third time together but Hermione already knew Dean well enough to know that he was not a man who cuddled. Or rather, not a man who wanted to admit that he was secretly a huge cuddler.

Therefore, Hermione would never actually call it so.

She was jostled a bit when Dean pulled his other hand away from where it had rested behind his head and reached for his phone on the bedside table.

"We should probably sleep. Get a few hours in."

"Probably," Hermione agreed, no closer to falling asleep than she had been five minutes ago.

When Dean set down his phone and let his hand fall back on his chest, Hermione once again saw the letters there, etched in his own skin.

She had no idea what overcame her - another's soulmate mark was something intimate, something private. Not something you touched without permission. Just like their cuddling, this was something they simply did not talk about.

Tracing the four letters, Hermione tried to make sense of them. Tried to fathom how anyone could feel this towards a man as good at heart as Dean.

She couldn't. At least not once one knew him.

Then again, he was an agent - there were certain situations one could be afraid of him.

Still tracing the word ‘fear’, she spoke softly.

“Have you already met them?”

"No."

Hermione waited, but nothing more came. Definitely not something to be further questioned. The topic itself, though, didn’t seem untouchable, as Dean continued.

"You?" he asked, reaching for her left wrist resting on his chest, arm squeezed between her body and his. From this angle, he would be unable to read it, but she knew he had seen it before. Now, his fingertips rested over her letters.

"No," was Hermione's equally short answer. She contemplated saying more but in a way, it felt as if there was a kind of understanding between them.

There were no more words needed. Not between two people sharing a similar fate.

Dean seemed to think the same, as he leaned up enough to roll Hermione on her back, leaning down to capture her lips in a long and intense kiss that soon erased all traces of a possible dark mood about their soulmates hating or fearing them... 

~*~

_There was fog everywhere, the light of her wand barely made a dent._

_The Death Eater was here somewhere, her prey._

_Some noise came from behind her, a twig snapped and she whirled around, a stupefy leaving her wand instinctively._

_A shadow in plaid leapt aside - no Death Eater would ever be caught dead in such muggle clothing, so whoever it was, it was not her target._

_“Witch!”_

_The hiss resonated in the foggy space between them, full of loathing and disgust. Full of hatred._

_A shot rang through the nothingness, followed by the burn of a bullet grazing her arm before it hit the tree next to her._

_It had been so close, so very very close and Hermione knew the underlying, deep-rooted fear she felt in this moment was justified. Just a few inches, and the bullet would have grazed her heart._

_She knew there was no reason to argue with this muggle. She knew of hunters, of course she did. They only saw the world in black and white, in creatures and in humans._

_For them, she was a creature._

_Another sound, right next to her, a second shadow drawing nearer. He came closer than the other and all of a sudden, a tall, young man loomed over her, his face a mask of hate she imagined the other shadow carried as well._

_The moment he saw her, he raised his weapon._

~*~

“No!”

Hermione shot up in bed, the word ripped from her. Right away, there was a gentle, yet strong hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Hermione, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”

Gasping for breath, Hermione looked up at Dean’s worried face.

“Sorry- I’m sorry, I-”

“Shh, shhh, it’s alright,” he assured her, softly pulling her into his embrace.

Hermione went willingly, her mind still foggy as she clung to Dean. He gently rocked her, whispering reassuring nothings into her ear.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve woken you sooner. Was in the bathroom, getting dressed.”

“Don’t apologise,” she told him, only now realising she could feel his shirt underneath her cheek instead of his naked skin. “It was just a bad memory.”

“A memory? Not just an intense nightmare?”

“I wish,” Hermione replied, slowly leaning back. “Sadly, no conjured nightmare holds a candle to my reality, to the things I’ve endured. Especially this.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked and by the sincere look in his eyes, she knew he truly cared and wanted to help her.

That thought alone made her smile, lifting some of the heaviness on her chest.

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him, caressing his freshly shaven cheek. “It’s just the last time I was truly scared, but nothing I wanna think of right now.” When she could tell Dean was not convinced, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, promise. Now tell me, why're you dressed already?”

“Oh, yeah, ehm; Sam called. He had a break in one of our cases, so I…”

“You need to get going.”

Even though she tried, Hermione was unable to keep all the disappointment out of her voice. Not that she had expected anything else, of course - they were nothing more than two adults who occasionally slept with each other, after all. But she wouldn’t have minded a few more hours in Dean’s arm, to be honest.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean confirmed, still searching her face with worry etched on his own. “You sure you’re alright? You look a bit pale.”

“Dean, I promise, I’m _fine_. Please stop worrying about me.”

“Yeah, well. Easier said than done. Thing is… I _do_ worry about you…”

It was all he said and yet, his eyes told her so much more. Unsure if she could believe her intuition, she held his gaze with her own, trying to find some hidden answer. 

When she was sure to read him right, a slow smile spread across her lips and it was quickly mirrored by Dean.

When his phone buzzed, he grimaced and their moment was ruined. 

“I should go- but maybe later… we get together? Talk some?”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, I’d like that.”

“I’ll call you when I’m done?” he suggested, his eyes telling her just how much he hoped for a positive reply.

It let her heart soar and she gave in to the need of touching him, if only a little. Reaching out, she straightened his tie, patting his chest in the process. 

“You do that. And please, be careful.”

“I’ll try my best,” he promised. “But we’ve been hunting this perp for months now… I might have to go to some drastic measures to finally get them.”

Despite his serious words, he didn’t look concerned and Hermione could detect a hint of playfulness. Was he teasing her? Seeing if she would be scared for him?

Resting her arms around his neck, she gave him a soft, teasing smile.

“But don’t get into too much trouble. Nothing too drastic, you hear? I rather like you to remain in one piece… or else these meetings might not be so much fun anymore.”

Dean chuckled and leant in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. Even though it was nothing more than an intense press of lips against lips, it still sent tingles through Hermione’s entire body. 

“In that case, I promise to be careful. Bye,” he whispered against her lips. 

“Bye,” she whispered back, releasing her arms from around him.

He gave her a final peck to her lips and then he was gone. 

Standing with a sigh, Hermione headed for the bathroom and ran the shower. Stepping in once the water was warm, she began to wash herself. Thoughts dwelling on the conversation they would soon be having. Whatever this was between them, it seemed as though it was becoming serious. The butterflies in her stomach could attest to that.

She shut the water off and began the process of drying off. As she reached for her wand to quickly dry her hair, her eyes caught on the word on her wrist. 

“What the-?”

Pulling her wrist up to eye-level, Hermione stared at the blackness of the four letters. Only… it wasn’t black anymore!

“How…?

It _definitely_ was lighter! How was it lighter!?! 

That couldn’t be possible! 

She would have known if she had met her soulmate recently, wouldn’t she? The emotion was so strong after all, it would have to be a memorable meeting. She brought her wrist closer to her face and examined each letter thoroughly, her finger running over them. She even scratched at one of them with her thumb nails, checking if maybe there was something on it.

But there wasn’t.

The letters were definitely lighter. 

Before she could ponder it further, her mobile rang with Theo’s custom ring tone. Hesitating for just a moment, she finally rushed back to the room and flipped the phone open. 

“Theo? What’s up?”

“I’ve got a lead,” her partner replied in lieu of a hello, his voice sounding equally tired and excited. “When are you coming in?”

“I’m just getting dressed,” Hermione told him, reaching for her clothes and squeezing her phone between her ear and shoulder as she slipped her legs into her jeans. “Be there in a few. I’m going to stop for tea though, want anything?”

“One of those excellent pastries from that place we like would be amazing right now. I’ve been up half the night with this spell.” 

“Alright, I’m on my way,” replied Hermione, quickly buttoning her trousers and looking around for her bra that seemed to be missing. 

“See you soon,” Theo said before he hung up. 

Tossing her phone onto the bed, Hermione quickly found the missing item and finished getting dressed before she grabbed her things and apparated out of there. 

~*~

It had taken most of the day to get anything solid from Theo’s lead, but it had led them here, to this forest so eerily similar to the one she had been in a few months ago. 

Despite their best effort to stay close to each other, she had gotten separated from Theo after a _Bombarda_ burst through the trees, thrown by the Death Eater they were chasing. However, Theo’s tracking charm told her he was close and that he was uninjured; so she kept moving, listening for anything that would give away the Death Eater’s location. 

With an idea of who their quarry could be, and the knowledge that he was a clever one, it was more than likely that he had put silencing spells on his shoes. Any smart prey would, to keep their trackers off their trail. 

Suddenly there was a crack, like the sound of apparition and Hemrione ran toward it. However, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who had heard it, as when she rounded a tree, she crashed into a solid body.

Two hands gripped her arms to steady her and a very familiar voice sounded in her ears. 

“Sonofabitch! Are you okay? You shouldn- _Hermione?_ ” 

Hermione looked up into the confused green eyes of none other than Dean Winchester.

“Dean? What are _you_ doing out here?”

“We’re hunting a w-criminal,” he replied. “Why are _you_ here?”

Any attempt to formulate a plausible answer was interrupted when Theo came running into the small clearing; his footsteps silent but his breathing heavy.

“Hermione! Watch out! He could be a Hunter!”

She turned to her partner, revealing Dean behind her as she held up a calming hand. “No, it’s alright. It’s Dean.”

Theo’s eyes went wide and she saw his grip tighten on his wand and that familiar calculating look settle on his features. The one she knew he wore when he was puzzling over all the information. 

There was a pounding set of footsteps and they all turned, raising their weapons defensively until a tall, lanky man came into their line of sight. 

One Hermione knew all too well.

It was the same Hunter she had seen back in the woods of Nebraska. The same one who still haunted her nightmares, alongside the shadowy figure she had never been able to put a face to. 

Now, the Hunter raised his gun to train on her. 

“Get away from her, Dean!” he growled. 

Hermione looked wide-eyed at Dean, who had a placating hand raised towards the Hunter, much in a similar gesture as Hermione did to Theo. But it was his words that caught her attention like nothing else could have. “Wait, Sam, she’s cool. It’s Hermione.”

Sam - _Dean’s brother,_ her mind supplied helpfully - didn’t drop his gun. No, he rather tightened his grip as he growled out, “No, _that’s_ the witch from Nebraska!”

Hermione looked back at Dean, finding his eyes wide and shocked, staring right back at her.

For a moment, time seemed to stop, almost as if it was giving her a moment to piece together the meaning of this revelation.

If Sam was the second Hunter she had seen in Nebraska - then that meant _Dean_ must have been the first! He had been the one who had _shot_ her! The one she had been so scared of... The word on his wrist… The word on _hers_ … A harsh hiss of _“Witch!”_ that still rang in her ears, filled with so much hatred... 

It couldn’t be…

No…

Please, Fates, no…

But it was, it couldn’t be anything else. That connection she had felt towards him at the bar. The time she had _thought_ to be their first meeting. She had realised it then in the basest, most instinctive way. Ignoring it only because their feelings hadn’t matched their words.

But the night at the bar had never been their actual first meeting.

It had been earlier that day, in the foggy woods of a forest, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska!

And what they felt back _there_ … it matched their words -

And that meant - 

Dean was her soulmate. She was his.

She realised all this within three beats of her heart, her shock running so deep she was unable to grasp Dean’s reaction before a sudden movement next to them distracted her.

Thankfully, her partner was not as distracted as she was.

“ _Protego_ ,” Theo yelled and the curse thrown in her direction clashed against the invisible shield, lighting the night and exploding in a loud bang.

Right away, training and instincts kicked in and without hesitation, Hermione fired one spell after another towards the hooded figure who stood mere feet from them. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dean and Sam straighten out from where they had reflexively crouched in on themselves. Already, Dean was raising his gun - 

\- when Hermione saw the green light at the tip of their target’s wand erupt, shooting right in Dean’s direction.

“No!”

Hermione’s scream was almost lost in the sounds of spells and gunshots flying as she threw herself against Dean, tackling him to the ground. Right as she was falling onto him, she could feel the heat of the _Avada_ whir over her head, most likely singeing some of her hair.

“What the hell?” she heard Dean grunt but there was no time to answer him or to explain anything.

Shooting another spell against the masked figure, she got to her feet.

Another shot rang out and when the figure faltered, Hermione took her chance.

“ _Expelliarmus! Immobulus! Incarcerous! Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

She heard Theo’s voice join in on her spells and after a moment, the hooded figure crashed to the floor. Breathing heavily, she let Theo do the check in, still too floored from everything that had just happened - the whole revelation, not to speak of the fight - to think any further from simple reactions.

Theo went to the body on the ground and lifted its mask. Though it was too dark for Hermione to see any facial features, Theo’s relieved sigh told her everything she needed to know. For a moment, the fog in her head cleared, concentrating solely on the hatred she had for this one Death Eater.

As her partner picked up the dark wand from the ground, he looked at her, finally confirming.

“It’s Dolohov.”

Hearing the name out loud let a cold shiver run down her spine. She must have made a move or Theo simply knew her that well because without apparent reason, he raised his hand, ordering in a clear voice, “Don’t! He’s not worth it.”

“You know that guy?” Dean’s voice rang out next to her. He had gotten to his feet again, looking positively pissed, even though there was still confusion in his voice.

Before she could reply, Sam spoke.

“Of course they do!” he boomed out. “They are witches, Dean!”

“Oi, wizard, if you please!”

“Whatever,” Sam shot back, focusing on Theo now. “You’re abominations! You’re creatures who’ve consorted with the devil-”

“You couldn’t be further from the truth! We were _born_ with our magic.”

Sam scoffed, but whatever his reply would’ve been was interrupted by Dean’s darkened voice.

“You just pushed me away - to save that guy!”

“What? Dean, no-”

“You didn’t want me to shoot him! And now it’s clear that you know him? Are you in cahoots with him?”

“ _What_? NO! Dean, we _hunt_ the likes of him! We know him because he’s the reason Theo and I are in America. He’s the reason I have this scar!” she yelled out, pointing to her own chest.

For a moment, she was sure Dean’s stance softened as his gaze travelled to her chest. To where he knew an ugly scar marred her skin. One he had traced with his lips and hands this very morning, telling her it did nothing to ruin how beautiful she was in his eyes.

That moment was gone when his eyes were back on her face, accusation, betrayal, and even hurt still so clearly written in them. Hermione was quick to go on explaining.

“And I didn’t want to save _him_ \- I saved _you_! That spell would have killed you.” 

“Easy to say that now.”

“It would have!” Theo threw in, coming to stand by Hermione’s side. “So how about trying to be grateful to her? She risked her life with that idiotic move.”

“Grateful?” Dean replied in a calm manner; one that so very apparent hid the anger burning below the surface. “For what? For tricking me? For making me believe I might be in love with her?” he spat out, his words slicing through Hermione as he turned from Theo back to her. “Did you do this on purpose?”

His faux calm demeanor broke as his rant continued. Unable to stop his flood of accusations, Hermione could feel tears well up in her eyes, boiling over from her own anger. Anger about the unfairness, about this unjust revelation, about how powerless she felt in this very moment, walking down the cruel path the Fates had chosen for them.

“Did you follow me?” Dean went on. “Did you see me in the woods and then followed me to the bar so you could sweet talk your way into my life? To gather information on how close we were to your circle of murdering witches?”

“Hey, back off!” Theo yelled as he stepped in front of Hermione and shoved Dean back.

She hadn’t even noticed just how close he had gotten in her face, looming over her.

Right away, Sam was there, protecting his brother from Theo, and a short quarrel began between the two men.

But Dean’s eyes were only on her.

Eyes that were so full of hatred. Eyes that had held something so different just that morning.

“That very first time we met - the _real_ first time! The time I actually _shot you_ \- Tell me what you felt!”

That seemed to stop both Theo and Sam short, their faces falling as their gazes flicked between the two of them.

Hermione, though, paid them no mind. His words confirmed that he had caught onto it too. With quivering lips, she shook her head, trying to blink back the tears and willing them not to fall.

“TELL ME!”

“I was scared. I was afraid. Of you.”

When Dean closed his eyes, hiding the pain she had seen in them, Hermione’s heart broke. Squeezing her own eyes shut, she swallowed, hard, before opening them and facing her fate.

Dean was looking at her, his face a mask of pain and dejection. At his side, Sam let go of Theo, both men clearly realising what had just happened. It wasn’t hard to understand, after all - Dean’s hatred for who she was palpable. If she had still been able to process the whole moment in full, she might have wondered how Sam’s demeanor seemed to have changed so quickly.

As it was, she simply took in how Sam rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder, accepting it when Dean shrugged him off, and spoke up.

“Dean, if she’s-”

“No!” Dean interrupted, “Don’t you dare say it!”

“But, Dean-”

“My soulmate is _not_ an abomination! This is a fucking trick or- or some witchy voodoo shit-”

“Dean-”

“No!” Dean once again yelled at his brother before looking straight back at her. “You did this, didn’t you? You cursed me, or bewitched me, or- or whatever it is you do! There’s a hexbag on me somewhere, isn’t there?!”

“Dean, you can’t cheat the Fates!” Sam finally yelled, pulling his brother back. “If your marks match your feelings then you _are_ soulmates!”

“NO!”

“Dean,” Hermione finally choked out. She wanted to reach for him; wanted to go back to their blissful ignorance of the whole truth; wanted to be back in that motel room from this very morning.

Wanted to be back at Dean asking her if they could talk later.

Those feelings that had grown between them…

Lifting her wrist, she looked down at the grey word - which was slowly gaining in darkness again.

Looking back at Dean, she forced her voice to not give out on her.

“Dean, I would _never_ curse you. I didn’t know who you were when we first met. None of what happened between us was a lie.”

“You mean except for the part where you’re a _witch_?”

“I’m _not_ the kind of witch you think me to be. I’m an agent, just like you. I work for our ministry. I _hunt_ dark wizards like Dolohov. I’m one of the _good_ ones!”

“I trusted you!” Dean spat out and Hermione knew he would have been in her face again if Sam wasn’t still holding him, arm wrapped tightly around his chest.

She could feel Theo’s hand on her own arm, slowly dragging her back.

“Hermione, we should go.”

“No!” she yelled back, trying to shrug out of Theo’s grip. “No, Dean, you need to believe me. Please.”

“Believe you? I can’t even look at you right now. You should listen to your friend and go. Before I do something I might regret.”

“You don’t mean that,” she pleaded with him, hoping against hope that she could take away the darkness in his eyes as he stared her down.

But it only intensified.

“You don’t know me very well then, _witch_!”

“Dean, please. Think- think about what you said this morning-”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean replied, voice giving out on the last syllable, and slowly - so very slowly - he raised his hand, pointing his gun at her.

Whimpering, Hermione caved in on herself, weakly lifting her wand in defence. “No, please.”

“You were right to fear me that very first night, witch,” Dean told her, his voice shaking. “Now _go_.”

She could hear Sam try to calm Dean down; she could hear Theo calling out for her to come with him; his pull on her arm a distant sensation.

But all that registered was the sight of the barrel of Dean’s gun pointed at her. It was not as steady as she imagined it usually to be; which was the moment she realised there was a tremor running through his body. He looked like a bowstring, stretched so far it was ready to snap. The look of hatred in his eyes was watery but his grim features never softened.

She could tell that right now, Dean was battling with himself.

And that there was no way for her to get through to him.

Not right now.

Probably not ever.

Closing her eyes, she let herself fall against Theo and in the next second the pull of side-along apparition took her away.

The picture of Dean pointing his gun at her forever etched into her mind.

_~*~ to be continued ~*~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **It's not the end, I swear!**  
>  And yes, I made myself cry by writing this last scene 😭


End file.
